(Pre-post note: I am NOT referring to places like conservatories, art/dance high schools, etc. where wanting to and being able to dance/practice all the time is the REASON you are at that school.)
As an adult dancer, I appreciate that there are people that will let me take class even though there's no chance I'm going to be a professional. I especially appreciate that people will let me take class, and even perform, even though I am unable to devote as much time to it as would be ideal.
Take the ballet company I'm performing with, for example. I take one or two classes a week, partly to stay in ballet shape and partially to get strong enough to do a full ballet en pointe. At my old home studio, two classes a week (90 minutes technique, 30 minutes pointe = one class) was the bare minimum for you to even be taking classes after a certain level. And I understand completely that ballet is a discipline that requires some devotion, as any activity is--and since most people don't have a studio in their house, class essentially serves as practice. I get it. I used to practice seven hours of piano a week. And three hours of violin. Four hours of ballet (plus another two or three hours weekly of rehearsal for performances) is totally on par with that.
Once my mom voiced concerns to my ballet teacher about me only being able to take two lessons, and my teacher said she shouldn't worry, since I picked up choreography quickly and my technique was solid. Okay, cool, so I get to perform as a teenager and it's great, even though I'm not taking 4 or 5 classes a week.
At the same time, however, since I wasn't "devoted" enough, and I wasn't going to be professional, I was passed over for "big flowers" for a couple of years in favor of girls who were less secure en pointe, seemingly only because they took more classes than me and didn't say outright that they didn't want to be professional dancers.
It has come to my attention that my current ballet company requires its "senior dancers" to take nine classes a week. NINE. One short of double digits. These classes are selected from company classes and level 6/7 (out of 10) classes, two pointe classes, and one partnering class. One of the pointe classes is during a company class, so none of the senior dancers do that one. So these dancers are taking class Monday through Saturday. A sample schedule might be:
Monday: Technique class, 4:00 - 5:30
Technique class (level 6/7), 5:30 - 7
Tuesday: Technique class, 4:00 - 5:30
Partnering class, 5:30 - 6:30
Wednesday: Technique class, 4:00 - 5:30
Thursday: Technique class, 4:00 - 5:30
Friday: Technique class, 4:00 - 5:30
Pointe class, 6:00 - 7:00
Saturday: Technique class, 12:30 - 2
On top of this, the dancers have rehearsals approximately 5 hours a week, and the rehearsal schedule is not the same every week. That's insane. I don't know if the director is actually lenient or not--she might be, as she is with me, because obviously as a grad student I can't do this. From what I know, though, at least the girls that I am dancing with are at the studio Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday for class (from my own observation), as well as Tuesday, because I hear them talk about the partnering classes.
Let's discuss the implications of this.
1. Dancers are essentially told that if they want to perform, they must drop all other activities. Now, it may be the case that they can be "auxiliary dancers" or something in name only but actually dance in senior dancer roles. But as far as I can see, only younger and/or less proficient dancers are labeled auxiliary/apprentices.
2. In a similar vein senior dancers must sacrifice some college "desirability" because they
cannot hold authority positions in things like the school paper, debate
club, theater, etc. etc. that require you to meet extensively outside of school. They are at the studio from 4-7/8 six days a week. Note: classes in
this school district end at 3:30, so no, you can't make a meeting after
school. Not having these club opportunities also decreases the possibility of having solid relationships with teachers that can write you recommendation letters.
3. Senior dancers must have families that can afford nine classes a week. Now, it might be that you're capped at 6 classes a week, since that's the highest price I can find, or that company classes are free/reduced (but you still have to pay for the extra three classes), and that there are some scholarships. However, that's still quite a lot of money.
4. Senior dancers must have families that are well-off to the degree that the dancers do not need "normal" after-school jobs (i.e., jobs without connections that are sympathetic to the fact that you can only work 5 hours a week). You know, for paying for pointe shoes, paying for leotards and tights, paying for makeup, etc.
So, to me, this requirement for 9 classes favors an elite class and tells people (like me in high school) that they're not worthy of being on stage unless they're sacrificing everything else. Again, there might be some things that I am missing but from what I can tell, these girls are scrambling with homework from AP classes and 18 hours of class/rehearsal, so I feel like they can't possibly be doing too much else.
I really don't like this attitude, implicit or explicit, in ballet/dance, or any arena really. At this age, or any age where "being a professional" is not in the least the end goal, it's completely absurd.
So I only want to, or can afford to, ride a horse once a week for one hour. So I'm not planning to be an Olympic-level show-jumper. Does that mean that I shouldn't learn how to ride? Should I not ever go to little local horse shows just for fun?
I'm not able to devote 20 hours a week to piano, so does that mean I shouldn't even bother learning? That even if, in 7 hours a week I get to the level where I -could- study music at a conservatory, I shouldn't be performing?
Because I can't devote 20 hours a week to studying mathematical theory and am not planning to be a mathematician, I shouldn't learn math, or that I shouldn't "perform" by using math in everyday life? (Throwing that one in for absurdity.)
I don't see why it should apply to ballet, either. And even if it's the case that this ballet studio is actually more lax than its printed rules, it is still true that at my old studio, people that intended to continue dance post-high school were favored for roles DESPITE the fact that I had better technique, learned choreography faster, and was a better overall dancer. (Throwing modesty out the window here, it's true.) And it turns out that I'm still dancing anyway so why does it matter?
Saturday, October 4, 2014
Sunday, September 21, 2014
Turns out technique is actually helpful
Turns out... haha...
Anyway, to make a long story short, I stopped pointe over the summer, and wasn't going to start again, due to bunion pain that I eventually got sorted. Prior to quitting, though, I had gotten up to doing somewhat shaky double pirouettes to the right (my strong side for turns, but weak side for supporting leg---left foot/ankle is not as strong as the right) and to solid doubles to the left (weak side turning, but stronger supporting foot).
Then, the director of the ballet studio I take classes at asked me if I would be able to do their production of the Pied Piper, because they needed another girl for to be a townsperson. The catch: it was en pointe. I mentioned that I was concerned I wouldn't be strong enough en pointe because I'd been off nearly 4 months (and prior to that, eight years!). The director assured me that it would be okay, and the hardest thing to do would be the choreography that I had seen while watching the company audition*. I might not even have to do the pirouette in it, she said. So I was like, okay, I guess I can do it. So, as of yesterday, I've been back doing pointe work for a week. A singular week. This is relevant. One week after 4 months off, and prior to my break, I could only do double pirouettes.
Turns out, that is TOTALLY NOT THE HARDEST THING. Most of the problem is that I'm going to have to do a lot of cardio between now and the performance to get my stamina up. The other part of the problem is that the choreography would be less difficult if it were even slightly slower.
The last problem is not really one that I'm having, but the other girls are. One of the instructors has banned rosin because it's bad for the floor, but the floor is quite slippery, which I noticed during technique class, and we're doing a lot of traveling jumps, and it's a little terrifying trying to travel across a slippery floor in satin shoes.
Anyway, yesterday one of the girls that IS doing the pirouette in that bit of choreography was having difficulties with her foot turning in before the actual turn take-off. She was falling out of her pirouettes a lot when just practicing them and I mentioned this to her, and she moaned that she knew, but the floor was too slippery.
So I tried it, and I really tried to engage my turnout, and used a better plie in order to achieve this, and whaddya know---out popped a completely accidental triple. A complete three times around, and I didn't fall out of it. After which I said "well, that was a complete accident, and it's never going to happen again." And then I tried it again, with the same mental effort going towards maintaining turnout in the preparation, and---voila---it happened again. Remember how the best I had gotten in the spring, after four months back on, was a double? Yeah! Turnout! Keeps you from flailing!
I didn't try my luck a third time xD
I've been doing a lot more modern lately, so I'm used to having the extra friction from bare feet. Anyway, I'm back en pointe and noticing now with both new shoes and slippery floors that turnout is actually kind of hard to maintain. But, it's totally helpful. Who knew that technique was there for a reason :P
* Step(R) step step step, piqué pirouette in arabesque to the R, failli through, jumping pas de basque to a piqué penché in Vaganova fourth arabesque, plié pas de bourré to fifth. Plié point to second with R foot, soutenu, plié point, soutenu, land fourth, double pirouette, pivot to croisé R.
Repeat that through the pas de bourré, then jeté tour (R), jeté tour, piqué half turn in passé to face upstage, jeté tour jeté tour piqué half turn, jeté tour jeté tour chaîné, chassé up into first arabesque, come down into B-plus. It's really not terrible. Lots of piqués, which are way easier than one-footed relevés.
Anyway, to make a long story short, I stopped pointe over the summer, and wasn't going to start again, due to bunion pain that I eventually got sorted. Prior to quitting, though, I had gotten up to doing somewhat shaky double pirouettes to the right (my strong side for turns, but weak side for supporting leg---left foot/ankle is not as strong as the right) and to solid doubles to the left (weak side turning, but stronger supporting foot).
Then, the director of the ballet studio I take classes at asked me if I would be able to do their production of the Pied Piper, because they needed another girl for to be a townsperson. The catch: it was en pointe. I mentioned that I was concerned I wouldn't be strong enough en pointe because I'd been off nearly 4 months (and prior to that, eight years!). The director assured me that it would be okay, and the hardest thing to do would be the choreography that I had seen while watching the company audition*. I might not even have to do the pirouette in it, she said. So I was like, okay, I guess I can do it. So, as of yesterday, I've been back doing pointe work for a week. A singular week. This is relevant. One week after 4 months off, and prior to my break, I could only do double pirouettes.
Turns out, that is TOTALLY NOT THE HARDEST THING. Most of the problem is that I'm going to have to do a lot of cardio between now and the performance to get my stamina up. The other part of the problem is that the choreography would be less difficult if it were even slightly slower.
The last problem is not really one that I'm having, but the other girls are. One of the instructors has banned rosin because it's bad for the floor, but the floor is quite slippery, which I noticed during technique class, and we're doing a lot of traveling jumps, and it's a little terrifying trying to travel across a slippery floor in satin shoes.
Anyway, yesterday one of the girls that IS doing the pirouette in that bit of choreography was having difficulties with her foot turning in before the actual turn take-off. She was falling out of her pirouettes a lot when just practicing them and I mentioned this to her, and she moaned that she knew, but the floor was too slippery.
So I tried it, and I really tried to engage my turnout, and used a better plie in order to achieve this, and whaddya know---out popped a completely accidental triple. A complete three times around, and I didn't fall out of it. After which I said "well, that was a complete accident, and it's never going to happen again." And then I tried it again, with the same mental effort going towards maintaining turnout in the preparation, and---voila---it happened again. Remember how the best I had gotten in the spring, after four months back on, was a double? Yeah! Turnout! Keeps you from flailing!
I didn't try my luck a third time xD
I've been doing a lot more modern lately, so I'm used to having the extra friction from bare feet. Anyway, I'm back en pointe and noticing now with both new shoes and slippery floors that turnout is actually kind of hard to maintain. But, it's totally helpful. Who knew that technique was there for a reason :P
* Step(R) step step step, piqué pirouette in arabesque to the R, failli through, jumping pas de basque to a piqué penché in Vaganova fourth arabesque, plié pas de bourré to fifth. Plié point to second with R foot, soutenu, plié point, soutenu, land fourth, double pirouette, pivot to croisé R.
Repeat that through the pas de bourré, then jeté tour (R), jeté tour, piqué half turn in passé to face upstage, jeté tour jeté tour piqué half turn, jeté tour jeté tour chaîné, chassé up into first arabesque, come down into B-plus. It's really not terrible. Lots of piqués, which are way easier than one-footed relevés.
Sunday, March 23, 2014
Dance is like dressage for people
This is a dance blog, but dance is just dressage for people*. For those of you that don't know what dressage is:
This is not me. This will never be me, and I have no regrets. But I do really love ponies.
Today I commented to my roommate that I finally made some improvement on my posture in my riding lesson, after seeing in a video of myself, what was going wrong. She thought it was so weird that I've been riding for over four years and there are still things that I can improve on. Important note: she does not ride. However, is there anything you can be unimprovable in after just four years? This isn't entirely rhetorical; I honestly cannot come up with anything that you can't improve on after four years. Perhaps double-clicking? But in terms of skill sets that involve tremendous motor coordination, it's not really the time that's the issue--it's more the concept of achieving perfection at all, ever (those that know my "professional" research would know how hard it is for me to NOT talk about speech control right now).
Anyway, my modern instructor has been really trying very hard to get me to improve my posture, mostly opening through the shoulders and lengthening the back. So I'm working on my posture. I want better posture. I want this posture to be strong but not tense, self-supporting, and consistent across conditions: low distraction, medium distraction, and high distraction. Now, here are the conditions that I am applying posture to, along with benefits and challenges:
Everyday life:
This is the easiest one to do, and thus the first step. When I'm walking, sitting, or standing, it just takes one small mental reminder to open the shoulders, lengthen my middle back, and support with my core. As I'm writing this blog post, I am doing this.
Pros: Well, good posture is good for you anyway. Specifically, I've noticed that my back is more flexible and also less painful than it has been in the recent past. Some of this could be due to my recent increase in overall activity (~ 3 dance classes a week, + riding lesson every week), but it isn't the existence of dance alone that has caused this improvement, as my weekly ballet class last year did not cause the same improvement.
Challenges: Remembering, mostly; however, this is just the creation of good habits. Even when I remember, almost without fail I will revert back to the original closed shoulders within 5 minutes. It is, however, getting better.
Dance class:
This is the next easiest to do. During my modern class, for example, I can remember to carry myself with (more) correct posture. Remarkably, a lot of this involves releasing tension. Importantly, not clenching down the shoulders, but rather pulling them down and back without pinching at the shoulder blades, as well as lengthening the middle back without pinching on the spine. Sometimes I find that my hands have locked into position, but completely relaxing them will make my shoulders also relax.
Pros: Better lines, better technique; application of the posture here also builds on the same benefits as in the "everyday" category, like flexibility through the back and less pain. Slightly improved balance (greater effect en pointe). Also--improved abs.
Challenges: Doing completely atypical things with my feet, remembering what the order of the atypical things is, and still maintaining a posture that I must devote conscious energy to. Most challenging with lengthy or very difficult choreography.
Riding:
This, for me, is the most challenging. The biggest influencing factor in ranking, I think, is simply how long I've been doing each: I've been dancing since I was 2 and a half, but only riding since I was 18. Another challenge is, of course, that you are working on the back of an animal that is being so pleasant as to cart your butt around. The last thing you want to do is unnecessarily burden their back and their mouth.
Anyway, I started jumping almost two years ago. Now that I've accomplished my goals of not looking down before jumps (which leads to falling off) and having fair consistency in counting strides (the lack of which can also lead to falling off), I'm trying to work on my position, both at all gaits while flatting (walk/trot/canter), as well as my jump position.
- No worming at the (sitting) trot or canter;
- Relaxing the seat (this whole "relaxing" thing seems to be a recurring phenomenon);
- Supporting through the core;
- Low, relaxed shoulders;
- Weight centered; specifically, weight not too far forward, and
- Lengthened and flat upper and middle back.
Here is me riding Freckles about 8 months ago. I am doing the worm:
Here is me riding Elvis a week ago:
Here is me riding Freckles today:
So, this is better (I'm not looking at anything below the knee):
I had a video taken last week and this week because I could feel that something was going wrong, but I wasn't sure where it was. Turns out, it wasn't just the jumping itself that was the problem! The root of the problem is at the canter. Collapsing in the upper/middle back (and, at the extreme end, being one of these guys) during the canter was not setting me up for a good jump position. Sur-prise!
Pros: Magically, having good posture also prevents my weight from falling too far forward. And being too far forward means you will probably fall. And falling from four or five feet up, going from 15 or so mph to a dead stop (when you hit the ground), is very painful. And quite dangerous. I'm not saying that you won't fall if you have good posture, but it seems to help the stickability. On the horse's end, you are carrying your own weight more efficiently, which is always helpful for them.
Challenges: Running around in the woods at 15-20 mph with very little actually between you riding happily on your horse and you being wrapped around a tree comes with some adrenaline. The reaction of humans when they are doing something that is fast and frightening is to curl up into the fetal position and protect the noggin. And this is the opposite of good posture! Instead, you (I) need to work on a., never actually hitting the mental panic button, and b., building in a relaxed, supported posture into riding. Some people naturally come this way; others (like me) need a bit of poking and prodding.
My poking and prodding is mostly self-motivated in riding, though the general posture ideal was catalyzed by my modern instructor. I hope to turn my posture into another success story like how I semi-permanently banished severe pronation (and pain). Start with the basics, like brushing my teeth or waiting for the bus, and work up to running around the woods with ponies.
* This is the opposite of the normal conclusion, or "dressage is dance for horses." I also started dancing 15 years before I started riding. But this direction is more appropriate for a dance blog.
This is not me. This will never be me, and I have no regrets. But I do really love ponies.
Today I commented to my roommate that I finally made some improvement on my posture in my riding lesson, after seeing in a video of myself, what was going wrong. She thought it was so weird that I've been riding for over four years and there are still things that I can improve on. Important note: she does not ride. However, is there anything you can be unimprovable in after just four years? This isn't entirely rhetorical; I honestly cannot come up with anything that you can't improve on after four years. Perhaps double-clicking? But in terms of skill sets that involve tremendous motor coordination, it's not really the time that's the issue--it's more the concept of achieving perfection at all, ever (those that know my "professional" research would know how hard it is for me to NOT talk about speech control right now).
Anyway, my modern instructor has been really trying very hard to get me to improve my posture, mostly opening through the shoulders and lengthening the back. So I'm working on my posture. I want better posture. I want this posture to be strong but not tense, self-supporting, and consistent across conditions: low distraction, medium distraction, and high distraction. Now, here are the conditions that I am applying posture to, along with benefits and challenges:
Everyday life:
This is the easiest one to do, and thus the first step. When I'm walking, sitting, or standing, it just takes one small mental reminder to open the shoulders, lengthen my middle back, and support with my core. As I'm writing this blog post, I am doing this.
Pros: Well, good posture is good for you anyway. Specifically, I've noticed that my back is more flexible and also less painful than it has been in the recent past. Some of this could be due to my recent increase in overall activity (~ 3 dance classes a week, + riding lesson every week), but it isn't the existence of dance alone that has caused this improvement, as my weekly ballet class last year did not cause the same improvement.
Challenges: Remembering, mostly; however, this is just the creation of good habits. Even when I remember, almost without fail I will revert back to the original closed shoulders within 5 minutes. It is, however, getting better.
Dance class:
This is the next easiest to do. During my modern class, for example, I can remember to carry myself with (more) correct posture. Remarkably, a lot of this involves releasing tension. Importantly, not clenching down the shoulders, but rather pulling them down and back without pinching at the shoulder blades, as well as lengthening the middle back without pinching on the spine. Sometimes I find that my hands have locked into position, but completely relaxing them will make my shoulders also relax.
Pros: Better lines, better technique; application of the posture here also builds on the same benefits as in the "everyday" category, like flexibility through the back and less pain. Slightly improved balance (greater effect en pointe). Also--improved abs.
Challenges: Doing completely atypical things with my feet, remembering what the order of the atypical things is, and still maintaining a posture that I must devote conscious energy to. Most challenging with lengthy or very difficult choreography.
Riding:
This, for me, is the most challenging. The biggest influencing factor in ranking, I think, is simply how long I've been doing each: I've been dancing since I was 2 and a half, but only riding since I was 18. Another challenge is, of course, that you are working on the back of an animal that is being so pleasant as to cart your butt around. The last thing you want to do is unnecessarily burden their back and their mouth.
Anyway, I started jumping almost two years ago. Now that I've accomplished my goals of not looking down before jumps (which leads to falling off) and having fair consistency in counting strides (the lack of which can also lead to falling off), I'm trying to work on my position, both at all gaits while flatting (walk/trot/canter), as well as my jump position.
- No worming at the (sitting) trot or canter;
- Relaxing the seat (this whole "relaxing" thing seems to be a recurring phenomenon);
- Supporting through the core;
- Low, relaxed shoulders;
- Weight centered; specifically, weight not too far forward, and
- Lengthened and flat upper and middle back.
Here is me riding Freckles about 8 months ago. I am doing the worm:
Here is me riding Elvis a week ago:
Here is me riding Freckles today:
So, this is better (I'm not looking at anything below the knee):
I had a video taken last week and this week because I could feel that something was going wrong, but I wasn't sure where it was. Turns out, it wasn't just the jumping itself that was the problem! The root of the problem is at the canter. Collapsing in the upper/middle back (and, at the extreme end, being one of these guys) during the canter was not setting me up for a good jump position. Sur-prise!
Pros: Magically, having good posture also prevents my weight from falling too far forward. And being too far forward means you will probably fall. And falling from four or five feet up, going from 15 or so mph to a dead stop (when you hit the ground), is very painful. And quite dangerous. I'm not saying that you won't fall if you have good posture, but it seems to help the stickability. On the horse's end, you are carrying your own weight more efficiently, which is always helpful for them.
Challenges: Running around in the woods at 15-20 mph with very little actually between you riding happily on your horse and you being wrapped around a tree comes with some adrenaline. The reaction of humans when they are doing something that is fast and frightening is to curl up into the fetal position and protect the noggin. And this is the opposite of good posture! Instead, you (I) need to work on a., never actually hitting the mental panic button, and b., building in a relaxed, supported posture into riding. Some people naturally come this way; others (like me) need a bit of poking and prodding.
My poking and prodding is mostly self-motivated in riding, though the general posture ideal was catalyzed by my modern instructor. I hope to turn my posture into another success story like how I semi-permanently banished severe pronation (and pain). Start with the basics, like brushing my teeth or waiting for the bus, and work up to running around the woods with ponies.
* This is the opposite of the normal conclusion, or "dressage is dance for horses." I also started dancing 15 years before I started riding. But this direction is more appropriate for a dance blog.
Thursday, February 27, 2014
I'm a jumper
In addition to my open ballet class, I'm also taking a modern class this semester. The unclimbable mountain of every class is her major adagio-allegro double whammy that takes a good 15 minutes to learn by 8s. Usually 4 counts of very slow 8, so you might as well call it 8 counts of 8. They're great, though, and we do them over and over in two groups so we can figure out what we were actually supposed to do while the other group is going.
Normally we don't jump, really not at all, which is a shame. My extensions are only so-so, my knees look perpetually bent from the inside, and my back will be forever thrown by some spinning falls off of horses. But my jumps are good. Petit allegro, grand allegro, turns, grand waltzes, whatever, if something is "for boys," I like doing them and I'm good at it. After poking my knees at barre trying to get me to "straighten all the way," my instructors invariably see me jump and go, "oh look! You are good for something."
I'm definitely bragging here, but it's my one claim to ballet okay-ness.
Anyway, we don't jump a ton in my modern class, so my modern instructor has never really seen my jumps, but today... oh, today. We did THREE medium-allegro combinations from side to side, kind of like interval training because she made sure we knew what we were doing a couple of times across the floor, and then asked the musician to vamp up the speed, and then vamp it up again, and again. And then we did a second combination, and then a third. And she was very pleased with my jumps. She SAID so. To the CLASS. In one of the crazy-fast renditions of the second combination she said, "Watch how Robin barely touches the floor--well, she hits with a very good plie, but then immediately pushes off. That's how she can do it so fast."
That's all. It was a good class.
(Combinations:
1. Moving from stage left to right. 8 counts.
Tombe onto right foot (1), coupe pivot as if going into a jete tour (and), saute arabesque on R leg facing UsR (2 and), run run to face DsL (3 and), rond de jambe R arching towards working leg, side to front (4), step onto R (and), pique facing DsL onto L (5) plie on L (and), grand jete a la seconde to R facing front (6) step (and), grand jete R leg front facing stage R (7) step (and), chug with R leg in passe, curving upper back (8 and).
2. Moving from stage left to right. 10 counts.
R leg degage side, upper back arch away from leg (1) step (and), step (2) L leg degage side, upper back arch away from leg (and), step step to face DsL in parallel (3 and), degage parallel arabesque R leg (4) step back onto demi pointe onto R leg (and), step demi pointe L leg, arching upper back backwards (5) step forward plie parallel onto R leg (and), little pas de chat in parallel with L leg to passe first, starting to come out of the arch (6) step plie pivoting to turned out coupe, facing stage R (and), step backward onto L leg and saute with R leg arabesque (7 and), step backward onto R leg and saute with L leg arabesque (8 and), land fourth with R leg front (9 and), jump forward in fourth, arching upper back backwards (10 and).
3. Moving from stage left to right. 8 counts.
Saute on L leg, facing front, R leg passe, upper back arched backwards (1 and), step onto R leg, facing DsL and saute with L leg in arabesque (2 and), grand jete backwards with R leg brushing back, L leg ending in a degage front (3 and), coupe, saute on L leg with R leg extended a la seconde (4 and), run run to face UsR (5 and), grand jete R leg forward (6 and), step fouette saute R leg extended, (7 and), little hitchkick to change legs so L leg is in low attitude back (8). )
Normally we don't jump, really not at all, which is a shame. My extensions are only so-so, my knees look perpetually bent from the inside, and my back will be forever thrown by some spinning falls off of horses. But my jumps are good. Petit allegro, grand allegro, turns, grand waltzes, whatever, if something is "for boys," I like doing them and I'm good at it. After poking my knees at barre trying to get me to "straighten all the way," my instructors invariably see me jump and go, "oh look! You are good for something."
I'm definitely bragging here, but it's my one claim to ballet okay-ness.
Anyway, we don't jump a ton in my modern class, so my modern instructor has never really seen my jumps, but today... oh, today. We did THREE medium-allegro combinations from side to side, kind of like interval training because she made sure we knew what we were doing a couple of times across the floor, and then asked the musician to vamp up the speed, and then vamp it up again, and again. And then we did a second combination, and then a third. And she was very pleased with my jumps. She SAID so. To the CLASS. In one of the crazy-fast renditions of the second combination she said, "Watch how Robin barely touches the floor--well, she hits with a very good plie, but then immediately pushes off. That's how she can do it so fast."
That's all. It was a good class.
(Combinations:
1. Moving from stage left to right. 8 counts.
Tombe onto right foot (1), coupe pivot as if going into a jete tour (and), saute arabesque on R leg facing UsR (2 and), run run to face DsL (3 and), rond de jambe R arching towards working leg, side to front (4), step onto R (and), pique facing DsL onto L (5) plie on L (and), grand jete a la seconde to R facing front (6) step (and), grand jete R leg front facing stage R (7) step (and), chug with R leg in passe, curving upper back (8 and).
2. Moving from stage left to right. 10 counts.
R leg degage side, upper back arch away from leg (1) step (and), step (2) L leg degage side, upper back arch away from leg (and), step step to face DsL in parallel (3 and), degage parallel arabesque R leg (4) step back onto demi pointe onto R leg (and), step demi pointe L leg, arching upper back backwards (5) step forward plie parallel onto R leg (and), little pas de chat in parallel with L leg to passe first, starting to come out of the arch (6) step plie pivoting to turned out coupe, facing stage R (and), step backward onto L leg and saute with R leg arabesque (7 and), step backward onto R leg and saute with L leg arabesque (8 and), land fourth with R leg front (9 and), jump forward in fourth, arching upper back backwards (10 and).
3. Moving from stage left to right. 8 counts.
Saute on L leg, facing front, R leg passe, upper back arched backwards (1 and), step onto R leg, facing DsL and saute with L leg in arabesque (2 and), grand jete backwards with R leg brushing back, L leg ending in a degage front (3 and), coupe, saute on L leg with R leg extended a la seconde (4 and), run run to face UsR (5 and), grand jete R leg forward (6 and), step fouette saute R leg extended, (7 and), little hitchkick to change legs so L leg is in low attitude back (8). )
Saturday, February 15, 2014
Risk taking
For my dance classes at UW-Madison I had to sign my life away. You know, disclaimer, dancing is inherently dangerous and you risk serious injury, etc., etc., don't sue us when you're whisked away on a stretcher, etc. I never really think about dance as a dangerous activity, but obviously it is--how else would professionals get so seriously injured on the job? Things can break or snap or strain in all kinds of ways. Just look at this slow motion!
Anyway, there's nothing quite like pointework to make you realize that this stuff is scary. You know that part in Black Swan where she's doing the fouettés in front of the mirror, and they have that slow motion bit, and then her toenail cracks? Yeah, I think of that every time I go en pointe now. Thanks a lot, Black Swan.
But sometimes you have to take the risk. Today I went to a ballet class with a different teacher, who didn't know how long (short!) I've been doing pointe. Which is, of course, two months, if we're being generous--six weeks if you count the number of classes I've taken.
I don't do an actual pointe class; I just do the last part of barre and the first part of center. Initially I was putting them on after stretching because we always did relevés and elevés between barre and center. But every class I've been adding a little bit more, like the corner waltz or corner turns. Today our corner turns were two piqué turns en dedans, then one en dehors, tombé onto the working foot, and then turn on that foot, en dedans.
My initial reaction to this combination was "Hm, I wonder if I can even do this en pointe..." But I tried it. And I didn't break anything, but then I found out that it was actually a fouetté, and not a one-footed pirouette. So I tried it that way, and it worked, and then the teacher says:
"You can do a double, you know. The fouetté will whip you around for it."
Me: "Er... not en pointe, I don't think!"
Her: "Yes, you can!"
Me: "Well... I guess I can try..."
So I did, to the left, and I actually managed a double, which is amazing because not only was I turning on my weaker left leg, but also turning in the left direction, which is my weaker direction. It only worked once; the second time I was slightly off and didn't make it around twice. But now my biggest pointe accomplishment is a double fouetté en dedans to the left. All because I managed to block out that image of bones shattering. :D
Anyway, there's nothing quite like pointework to make you realize that this stuff is scary. You know that part in Black Swan where she's doing the fouettés in front of the mirror, and they have that slow motion bit, and then her toenail cracks? Yeah, I think of that every time I go en pointe now. Thanks a lot, Black Swan.
But sometimes you have to take the risk. Today I went to a ballet class with a different teacher, who didn't know how long (short!) I've been doing pointe. Which is, of course, two months, if we're being generous--six weeks if you count the number of classes I've taken.
I don't do an actual pointe class; I just do the last part of barre and the first part of center. Initially I was putting them on after stretching because we always did relevés and elevés between barre and center. But every class I've been adding a little bit more, like the corner waltz or corner turns. Today our corner turns were two piqué turns en dedans, then one en dehors, tombé onto the working foot, and then turn on that foot, en dedans.
My initial reaction to this combination was "Hm, I wonder if I can even do this en pointe..." But I tried it. And I didn't break anything, but then I found out that it was actually a fouetté, and not a one-footed pirouette. So I tried it that way, and it worked, and then the teacher says:
"You can do a double, you know. The fouetté will whip you around for it."
Me: "Er... not en pointe, I don't think!"
Her: "Yes, you can!"
Me: "Well... I guess I can try..."
So I did, to the left, and I actually managed a double, which is amazing because not only was I turning on my weaker left leg, but also turning in the left direction, which is my weaker direction. It only worked once; the second time I was slightly off and didn't make it around twice. But now my biggest pointe accomplishment is a double fouetté en dedans to the left. All because I managed to block out that image of bones shattering. :D
Saturday, January 18, 2014
Back to the pointe: a long, drawn-out story that does not get to the point
Yesterday, I did my first pirouette en pointe since 2006.
Last summer, I saw on Facebook that one of my friends, who had also been a ballet dancer in her youth, was going back to pointe work. I snickered to myself and commented something like "I've restarted ballet again, but that's the one thing I'm not ever going back to!"
Feeling quite confident and content with my decision to never put pointe shoes on again, I continued taking classes at my studio (Ithaca Ballet). In December, I went to see their production of the Nutcracker. Apparently, this triggered some kind of mental break. At the first notes of the Overture, I was pulled down into the greatest possible depths of nostalgia (oddly, the same thing happened when watching Black Swan, and the girls said "merde!"). And by the end of the Waltz of the Snowflakes, I was completely gone. I knew I had a brand new pair of pointe shoes tucked away at home. I was going to go back en pointe.
Being in the throes of final papers and grading final exams, I didn't actually dig out those shiny satin shoes. Two weeks later, however, found me back at my parents' house for the holidays and rummaging through my closet for my already broken-in shoes.
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| Definitely the most elegant way to wear pointe shoes. |
At this point I had neither toe pads nor good tape, so I just kept my thick wool socks on to put them on for the first time. With the slight crunching feeling in my toes I also remembered the reason why I had become so disillusioned with pointework--the pain of the foot being crunched. The summer after I turned 13, I grew three inches in three months. My feet apparently were a little behind, but they too crept up in size. I was between sizes in street shoes, which is probably why I didn't notice immediately. However, pointework suddenly became very painful when I was 14. My toes were fine--the skin was intact, I had no blisters, and absolutely no pain in technique shoes even after very intense classes. But my feet hurt, somewhat when I was on flat and rather a lot when my feet were actually bearing weight on pointe.
The pain got worse and worse, unfortunately during rehearsal season for the Nutcracker. I was doing the Chinese character dance, which at that studio had a lot of pas de couru, as well as 12 pirouettes from fifth at the end. I was in agony. If it wasn't specified, I did rehearsal in technique shoes, mostly when we were just learning choreography.
Madame did not like this at all, and thought I was slacking off (to be clear, I am not, and never have been the type of person to not put in 100%). She got mad. However, midway through the rehearsal season I figured out that my feet would stop hurting if I took the heels off--so the shoe was on, and I was dancing on pointe, but the back of the heel was down below. Madame still didn't like this, so she talked to my mother. My mother was very angry at the suggestion that I was trying to get out of work. My mother talked to me. The next rehearsal, I had new pointe shoes--and they were a size bigger.
It was magical! The pain went away. (Madame remained doubtful that it was actually a problem with the shoes, and not with my mentality.)
Anyway, it was these bigger and broken-in shoes that I put on with wool socks this last December. The wool socks, of course, made them slightly too small, and really offered minimal padding. But it was good enough for the amount of pointework I was going to do. And I have since acquired ouch pouches, which always worked for me in the past (as well as a jelly pad to let my big toe bear some weight--I'm one of the weirdos with a really long second toe).
To clarify, I do NOT recommend that people start pointework--whether it's for the first time or restarting--by themselves! I know that it can be very dangerous. Nevertheless, being still young and dumb (no worries, this story does not end with a broken ankle), I started doing releves at my bureau.
Now, dancers get upset when "lay people," for lack of a better term, dismissively say that dancers aren't athletes; they point out all the muscles that are working and the height of jumps (and for scoffing men, show them videos of male dancers carrying women around on their shoulders). As a dancer with non-dancer friends, I've had to do this. However, I had completely forgotten the intensity of muscles that are used in pointework. I started pointe when I was 10, and probably weighed under 100 pounds. Between ages 10 and 15, I certainly grew and gained weight, but of course did not notice when I was doing pointe all the time.
 |
| A smaller, whippier me on the far right, I think about six months after starting pointe |
I had about two and a half weeks at home, so I resolved to do about 20 minutes of work every night, plus theraband exercises. After about a week I was up to doing releves without the bureau. I found out that my weight is indeed carried very far back (as has been pointed out to me by my current instructor), but while I have no problems balancing or shifting weight in technique shoes, it is quite a challenge en pointe.
I generally have a very good feel for "what would happen if I tried this?" regarding dancing, and in this venture so far, I have not been wrong (knock on wood!). After another few days I no longer felt that I would come crashing down if I did a small pique to the right foot. It took my left foot a couple of more days to feel secure. And bourres took a surprisingly long time to start.
Anyway, I came back to my studio last week and did just a few exercises of my normal class en pointe--grand battements at the barre, releves and eleves at the barre, tendus in center with some pirouettes that I did as simple releves, and the adagio in center. Because the hidden challenge in pointe shoes is, of course, balancing on the flat on one foot!
The rest of the class, my leg muscles were vaguely trembling. They were NOT used to that kind of abuse! Pointe work alone, great. Ballet class alone, just dandy. But both in the same day? It's just inhumane (they protested).
I was bad about keeping up with my ankle and foot exercises this week, but I did two yoga classes so I will excuse myself. Clearly, I need stronger hips and quads anyway in order to pull up out of my shoes. But this week in class, I kept on my shoes for longer, through the waltz combination. We did a very simple one, with only two pique turns en dedans and one pirouette en dehors (and chaines). For the first round, I just did the pique turns, because they were slow and my "spidey senses" said I would be able to hold myself securely.
But then my spidey senses started tingling. I had done some passe releves in the center during the tendus, and my right leg and ankle were feeling really secure. Why shouldn't I try a pirouette? Just to the left? (I'm actually better at turns to the right, generally speaking, but the difference in pointe shoes is of course that en dehors to the left means the weight is on the right foot.) I didn't feel up to the one-legged nature of the pirouette from fourth so I did it from fifth.
And I totally nailed it. :D It was just a single, and it was rea-l-l-y slow, but it was a pirouette! I even rolled down correctly after.
We'll see where this pointe stuff goes. Maybe I'll be able to perform next year :)
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
Dancing as an adult: technique
Compared to a lot of adult dancers, I'm a baby. I acknowledge this. I'm in my early 20s and a lot of the physical complaints that adult dancers have to work through have not yet settled into this sack of bones. I also have the advantage of having danced since I was young: at 2 and a half I had my first tap class, and at 7 I started classical ballet training.
In there, I had a hiatus from ages 15 to 18. Even though that is a very short hiatus, and even though I am admittedly still a young dancer, it's quite different dancing "post hiatus" as compared to pre-hiatus.
The most significant difference is the self-discipline and attention to proper technique. This is probably true for anything done as a young kid and then again as an adult: adults tend to care and want to work to get better. Why else would they bother taking ballet? Or riding horses? Or learning an instrument?
Furthermore, adults are more motivated to gain proper technique to avoid pain and injury.
Even as a young kid, my joints were not exactly well-oiled. I had knee pain, a neck with uncertain wonkiness, and rollin' and rockin' hips (as well as snapping hip, as I have recently learned). But, you know, young joints, young muscles, young connective tissue, all that meant that my technique could be so-so and I still wouldn't be in significant pain.
When I was 15, I went to a physical therapist for my knees. I think that the experience did not push me in the right direction. The first therapist informed me that my knees hurt because I had flat feet--this was a surprise to me, as my ballet teachers had always said that I had nice arches. The second one decided that my knee pain was due to weak quads, which also surprised me, given the whole running-jumping-pliéing thing that I did for hours and hours a week. So I was assigned some essentially useless exercises, which didn't address the root of the problem, and I went on with so-so technique that still enabled high jumps and smooth turns.
However, after a few weeks of a fairly intense ballet class in college, I developed shin splints. They weren't terrible, but petit and grand allegro more often than not had me walking away wondering how to make it stop. During my first conference with my instructor, even before I mentioned my shin and knee pain, she very simply said, "Well, you have lovely jumps, but you tend to pronate. That puts a lot of stress on your knees." My eyes got starry, and I told her about my shin splints. She nodded and said, "Yes, that is probably because of the pronation. Do you have knee pain as well?"
Ohhhh.
That explains it--why the first physical therapist saw me walk five steps and declared me flat-footed, and why the second physical therapist was, without actually telling me the specifics, trying to work muscles that would pull my knees over my ankles. But without results--because strength does not equal technical employment when you're doing saut de chats from the corner--I stopped.
My goddess instructor had me jump in parallel with strict attention to my pronation and knee placement, and--whaddya know--no pain! Not from the shins, not from the knees. It was amazing.
After that I was super motivated to banish my pronation forever, so I started walking with attention to the outside edge of my feet. When I was brushing my teeth I supinated, went back to flat, and supinated again. I pulled up through my arches when standing in line. I practiced a lot of very careful pliés and sautés with great care to my knee placement. And I got better at not pronating, my shin splints got less severe, and ultimately went away permanently after a 2-month rest and return.
This is just one example of dedication to better technique, but for me, probably the most significant. It has also led to better-balanced and stronger jumps. Amazing--good technique gets results. I think this isn't stressed as much in most ballet studios, possibly because kids can get away with it. "Technique" at my old studio was spotting and posture. Spotting, because otherwise you fall over; posture, because otherwise you don't "look nice." Pulling up through your ribs in a one-legged balance wasn't for support and stability; it was because the line didn't look nice when it was sunk.
I imagine that kids, through the sheer fact of being kids with still-gelling motor systems and still-spongy brains, can "pick up" a lot of technique, just through experimentation. What makes you fall over, what sustains a balance? It's like language--bear with me here--small children use different acoustic cues to distinguish "s" and "sh" than adults do. Apparently, it's good enough and produces results that are pretty close to adult differentiation. But at some point they switch to acoustic cues that are more reliable.
In ballet technique, then, for example, I can learn to have decent extensions via clenching muscles in my hips and thighs. My line isn't as pretty as the girl next to me, but hey, she's more flexible, maybe that's why. But in the end it's kind of painful and a lot of work. To develop the proper technique and strength, it takes more work and thinking, and undoing the habit of clenching. And for a kid that's just bouncing around because dance is fun and they're not in actual pain, where's the motivation? However, technique is really important for longevity and also, of course, for long-term enjoyment.
 |
| I'm still pronating in this picture. Note: forced turnout in front foot, knee in front of toe, arch collapsed. Tsk tsk. |
In there, I had a hiatus from ages 15 to 18. Even though that is a very short hiatus, and even though I am admittedly still a young dancer, it's quite different dancing "post hiatus" as compared to pre-hiatus.
The most significant difference is the self-discipline and attention to proper technique. This is probably true for anything done as a young kid and then again as an adult: adults tend to care and want to work to get better. Why else would they bother taking ballet? Or riding horses? Or learning an instrument?
Furthermore, adults are more motivated to gain proper technique to avoid pain and injury.
Even as a young kid, my joints were not exactly well-oiled. I had knee pain, a neck with uncertain wonkiness, and rollin' and rockin' hips (as well as snapping hip, as I have recently learned). But, you know, young joints, young muscles, young connective tissue, all that meant that my technique could be so-so and I still wouldn't be in significant pain.
When I was 15, I went to a physical therapist for my knees. I think that the experience did not push me in the right direction. The first therapist informed me that my knees hurt because I had flat feet--this was a surprise to me, as my ballet teachers had always said that I had nice arches. The second one decided that my knee pain was due to weak quads, which also surprised me, given the whole running-jumping-pliéing thing that I did for hours and hours a week. So I was assigned some essentially useless exercises, which didn't address the root of the problem, and I went on with so-so technique that still enabled high jumps and smooth turns.
However, after a few weeks of a fairly intense ballet class in college, I developed shin splints. They weren't terrible, but petit and grand allegro more often than not had me walking away wondering how to make it stop. During my first conference with my instructor, even before I mentioned my shin and knee pain, she very simply said, "Well, you have lovely jumps, but you tend to pronate. That puts a lot of stress on your knees." My eyes got starry, and I told her about my shin splints. She nodded and said, "Yes, that is probably because of the pronation. Do you have knee pain as well?"
Ohhhh.
That explains it--why the first physical therapist saw me walk five steps and declared me flat-footed, and why the second physical therapist was, without actually telling me the specifics, trying to work muscles that would pull my knees over my ankles. But without results--because strength does not equal technical employment when you're doing saut de chats from the corner--I stopped.
My goddess instructor had me jump in parallel with strict attention to my pronation and knee placement, and--whaddya know--no pain! Not from the shins, not from the knees. It was amazing.
After that I was super motivated to banish my pronation forever, so I started walking with attention to the outside edge of my feet. When I was brushing my teeth I supinated, went back to flat, and supinated again. I pulled up through my arches when standing in line. I practiced a lot of very careful pliés and sautés with great care to my knee placement. And I got better at not pronating, my shin splints got less severe, and ultimately went away permanently after a 2-month rest and return.
This is just one example of dedication to better technique, but for me, probably the most significant. It has also led to better-balanced and stronger jumps. Amazing--good technique gets results. I think this isn't stressed as much in most ballet studios, possibly because kids can get away with it. "Technique" at my old studio was spotting and posture. Spotting, because otherwise you fall over; posture, because otherwise you don't "look nice." Pulling up through your ribs in a one-legged balance wasn't for support and stability; it was because the line didn't look nice when it was sunk.
I imagine that kids, through the sheer fact of being kids with still-gelling motor systems and still-spongy brains, can "pick up" a lot of technique, just through experimentation. What makes you fall over, what sustains a balance? It's like language--bear with me here--small children use different acoustic cues to distinguish "s" and "sh" than adults do. Apparently, it's good enough and produces results that are pretty close to adult differentiation. But at some point they switch to acoustic cues that are more reliable.
In ballet technique, then, for example, I can learn to have decent extensions via clenching muscles in my hips and thighs. My line isn't as pretty as the girl next to me, but hey, she's more flexible, maybe that's why. But in the end it's kind of painful and a lot of work. To develop the proper technique and strength, it takes more work and thinking, and undoing the habit of clenching. And for a kid that's just bouncing around because dance is fun and they're not in actual pain, where's the motivation? However, technique is really important for longevity and also, of course, for long-term enjoyment.
Tip of the tongue, tips of the toes
I personally think that my blog title is quite clever, but it might need some explanation.
First and foremost, I'm a linguist. I'm a PhD student in linguistics, studying phonetics and phonology. Just a few hours ago, I was writing a brief lab report, and I couldn't remember the name of the bony protrusion behind the ears. Mast-something process--masticatory? Masticle?
After writing an email to my labmate I remembered: mastoid process!
I'm sure everyone reading this has experienced this problem at some point, where the word is at the tip of your tongue but you can't--quite--spit it out. Linguists like to call this "tip of the tongue syndrome."
I changed "tongue" to "toe" and giggled because, of course, toes are important in ballet, particularly when we are dancing on the tips of them, en pointe.
So that's me: nerd, geek, dancer. I also add equestrian, fishkeeper, novice knitter, and baker to the list. I'm writing this blog because I've recently restarted ballet in a fairly serious way, venturing back to pointe shoes for the first time since I was 15. I make it sound like it was eons ago--in reality, I stopped just 7 years ago. However, as I have been discovering, seven years is plenty of time to lose muscle, coordination, and confidence. But onward! And importantly, upward!
First and foremost, I'm a linguist. I'm a PhD student in linguistics, studying phonetics and phonology. Just a few hours ago, I was writing a brief lab report, and I couldn't remember the name of the bony protrusion behind the ears. Mast-something process--masticatory? Masticle?
After writing an email to my labmate I remembered: mastoid process!
I'm sure everyone reading this has experienced this problem at some point, where the word is at the tip of your tongue but you can't--quite--spit it out. Linguists like to call this "tip of the tongue syndrome."
I changed "tongue" to "toe" and giggled because, of course, toes are important in ballet, particularly when we are dancing on the tips of them, en pointe.
So that's me: nerd, geek, dancer. I also add equestrian, fishkeeper, novice knitter, and baker to the list. I'm writing this blog because I've recently restarted ballet in a fairly serious way, venturing back to pointe shoes for the first time since I was 15. I make it sound like it was eons ago--in reality, I stopped just 7 years ago. However, as I have been discovering, seven years is plenty of time to lose muscle, coordination, and confidence. But onward! And importantly, upward!
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